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When one of his siblings needed or wanted something and Claire and I were busy, he would often get it for them.
He was getting big, too.
Tall for his age.
His face losing that fat that had kept his cheeks round up until a few months ago.
And much to his mother’s absolute heartache, he now insisted on keeping his hair short, cutting off those curls she loved so much.
He looked a lot like Claire. And I think we were both somewhat relieved that he took more after her than Warren. He had her eyes, her hair color, her chin and nose. If he inherited anything from his father, it was his stature. Tall and naturally thin, no matter how much he ate. And I swear I had to take on extra jobs just to feed the kid.
“Hey, guys,” Claire said, coming out of the back door, running her fingers over Judah’s head as she came to drop down onto my lap. “I thought I heard laughing out here,” she said, watching our toddler chase our five-year-old, squealing with glee.
“I’m gonna get some water,” Judah said, making my lips curve up as he popped up to do just that.
“What’s that look for?”
“We did a good job with that kid,” I told her, running my hand up and down her arm as she snuggled into me.
“He’s like a little carbon copy of you,” she said, smiling up at me. “He might look like me, but he’s amazing like you.”
“Hey, you’re pretty amazing too,” I told her.
“I feel like crap,” she admitted, sighing hard.
“If the pattern proves true,” I said, watching our daughter grab her brother and spin him. “You’ll be sick, but will have an angel of a baby.”
“That’s true,” she agreed. We’d noticed that with our sons, she’d had easy pregnancies, but really awful newborn phases. Then with our daughter, she was godawful sick, but she had a sweet, easy baby who slept through the night within a few weeks.
“Here, Mom,” Judah said, passing a cup of ice chips to her.
“You’re the best, kid,” she said, shooting him a warm smile.
He wandered off down toward his siblings, deciding to play even though he was a little old for their games.
“Are you ready for another one?” I asked.
“Ready or not, one is coming. I was kind of missing the newborn stage,” she admitted, pressing a kiss under my jaw. “Your mom is going to be so excited. Several babies in one year.”
“She’s getting everything she ever dreamed of.”
“So are we,” she said.
And, fuck, yes we were.
Claire - 17 years
“Why did we have five of these kids?” I asked Aurelio as I hauled an armload of bags in from the car, stacking them with the rest of them, spread across the island. “And why did no one tell us that they never stop eating?”
“They asked me to bring home chips last night,” Aurelio said. “Brought home six bags. They’re all gone already.”
“I think their legs are hollow,” I said. “There’s nowhere else they could be stuffing all of it.”
“Did you get string cheese?” our youngest asked, ten going on eleven, our third son we hadn’t planned on. We’d meant to keep it at four, but, well, things happened.
“I’m afraid to say yes,” I said, fishing the bulk pack out of a bag, knowing that all thirty-something sticks would likely be gone in two days.
Then I stood and watched as he tore open the bag, pulled out four sticks, then left the rest on the counter.
